


Comprehensive

by factorielle



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, M/M, Multi, internalized slut shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: throughout the years Izumi somehow hooks up with everyone on the team, whether it's dating, one-night stand, or mutual sex buddies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First posted at the [Oofuri Kink Meme](http:%5C%5Coofurikink.livejournal.com/686.html?thread=342190#t342190) on LJ.

Nobody plays a perfect game without massive amounts of training. It's so self-evident that it barely ever needs mentioning. A universal truth.

Which means, considering Izumi's prior and limited experience of a couple of rushed handjobs exchanged with a teammate in middle school, his tally of 'banged pretty much his entire first year baseball team and a fair amount of the frills' by the time he turns twenty is an exceptionally slutty feat.

Obviously, that's not something he was aiming for. If anyone cared to ask, he'd point out that it's just the way things happened. It's not like he had a _plan_ or anything.

Training camp makes people closer. It's kind of the point, come to think of it, the sharing of experience bringing people together. Shigapo must have explained it once or a dozen times, but there's only so much information that Izumi's brain will retain at five in the morning.

So when he wakes up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, after he's shaken Tajima off him and stepped over the bodies of his slumbering teammates, after not checking if the bathroom door is closed because it's the middle of the night and why would anyone—

It's not much of a stretch, past the first moment of embarrassment, to step in and close the door behind him.

Sakaeguchi appears to have no objection.

The next day, there's no weirdness at all, to the point where Izumi starts wondering if it actually happened, or if he just dreamed the whole thing, which would be a little worrying.

Sakaeguchi doesn't go out of his way to talk to him or anything, but he doesn't avoid him or look away, either. Which is a relief, because the team is too small to allow for two members deliberately avoiding each other.

That doesn't mean it doesn't happen, but that's another story.


	2. Chapter 2

That one starts after the Fall Tournament, when defeat and six months (and counting) of rising irritation finally wear down the dam of patience that Izumi has spent his entire life building up.

In short, he snaps at Abe. Snaps at him bad, so bad he barely recognizes himself for the words escaping him, and his only extenuating circumstance is that he waited for everyone else to leave the clubroom before doing it.

Abe doesn't like it. Doesn't like it so much that his fists clench and he takes a step forward and Izumi doesn't even care, keeps blurting out every thought that's ever passed through his head regarding Abe's blatant mishandling of their pitcher. But it isn't until 'Mihashi deserves so much better than you' that Abe slams both hands on either side of Izumi's head, trapping him against the wall, and snarls ‘don't you think I know that'.

Which is when Izumi realizes that the dysfunction in his team's main battery goes a lot deeper than he'd thought, and also that they're both breathing hard and high on adrenaline and later he'll swear that it's Abe who moved, but really it was both of them.

Fifteen going on sixteen, three handjobs in, and that's his first kiss. It's angry, violent, but still he finds himself not pushing away, even grabbing at Abe's clothes, pulling him down until he's trapped between a wall and a— hard place, really, and in the scrambling that follows he remembers to tell himself that this is really not something he should be doing.

But he's also loathing Abe a tiny bit less the longer it goes on, so really, he rationalizes, it should all count as taking one for the team. Then he stops thinking because coordinating his hands is difficult enough as it is.

So his mind is blissfully blank when his hand ends up around both their dicks, and fortunately or not, that doesn't last very long at all for either of them.

It seems to Izumi, after, that Abe is considerably more shaken by the experience than he himself is. Which is the perfect time for an underhanded maneuver.

"Stop harassing Mihashi," he snarls as if the past ten minutes hadn't happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite Izumi's excellent advice, Abe does not stop harassing Mihashi. But there's a shift, after that day. He's a little more patient, a little more gentle. Somewhat less of an ass, overall. It's not quite quantifiable, but everybody notices.

It doesn't take long for the team to start speculating, more seriously than any of them want to admit, that Abe has gone from trying to rule every part of Mihashi's life to courting him.

Which is how Izumi walks in on Shinooka wiping her eyes in the clubroom one day.

He almost walks away. It's none of his business, and it's obvious she doesn't want anyone to know, the way she smiles and runs around during training.

But she looks so miserable that he can't help asking if she's okay. She sniffs and says yes, so he lets it go and they both go through practice as normal, but afterward he makes it a point to stay around her; long enough to figure out where her sidelong glances are aiming and give himself a fair amount of guilt for upsetting the status quo.

In the following weeks he gets more carefully around her, tries to help: mostly by running interference when Abe and Mihashi are around or when Mizutani gets too attentive to her. For the longest time, Izumi has no clue if he's even alleviating any of her burdens, but after about a month he glances at her while he's luring Mizutani away, and she gives him the brightest smile he's seen on her in a long time. Relieved, he smiles back.

The next day she asks him to come shopping for thread with her, and it's perfectly legit and baseball-related and doesn't at all explain how he ends up kissing her in an alley by the sports shop, bag dangling awkwardly from his wrist. There's a sweetness to her kiss that he didn't find in Abe's, despite the desperation in the way she grabs his arms, despite the tears flowing down her cheeks when he pulls away.

 _She must really love him_ , Izumi thinks, and then _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry_ when she kisses him again.

Just like that they're dating.

It's weird, secret, hardly even there but for the times when they're alone together, which aren't that frequent over the next few months. They're not in love. They kind of like each other, but not like _that_ , that much is clearly established. She still throws wistful glances at Abe. They have a tacit agreement not to let anyone know, and it works.

It works, until Sakaeguchi's sister sees them getting out of a love hotel together one Sunday, which Izumi doesn't know about until the next morning, when the punch catches him by surprise. The insults he would have expected, and the hurt look, but the actual violence… ow.

He ends up in the infirmary with his girlfriend patting disinfectant on the swelling of his jaw, because the nurse isn't in on Mondays.

There's no choice but to tell her, at that point, why Mizutani is so angry at him and sad at her, and she looks horrified, as though it was her fault instead of his.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, ad nauseam. "I'm so sorry" and "can't I do anything right" and all he wants to tell her is that she's done everything right, so far, except for choosing. Instead he says "we should stop" and even though he knows it's the best thing to do, it kind of bothers him how relieved she looks at that.

Even so, it's still weeks before Mizutani deigns to talk to him again.


	4. Chapter 4

"And you're asking _me_?" Izumi asks, playing out his disbelief for all he's worth.

His brother has the decency to look a little embarrassed, under all the annoyance. "There aren't enough guys, and one of the girls like them younger, okay? You're not my first choice either."

"Fine, I'll go," Izumi concedes, because his brother will owe him forever and anyway it's the winter holidays, and having neither training nor a girlfriend to occupy his time, he really has nothing better to do this evening than go to a goukon and possibly get someone to buy him beer.

They get there to find the party already settled in their seats, and Izumi immediately identifies the girl (woman?) who likes her meat young, because she's already leaning far into the space of a guy who looks about a year older than him, vaguely familiar, and a lot more comfortable than Izumi feels. Possibly that's because he has an open beer on the table in front of him.

"Sorry about that, bro," his asshole brother stage-whispers. "I thought I could help you finally get laid, but it looks like you've struck out already."

Izumi rolls his eyes and doesn't dignify this with an answer.

Anyway, it turns out that she doesn't mind splitting her attention, so he ends up sitting on her right, making very small talk and trying to figure out where he might have seen the other guy before. It clicks at the worst of times, a couple of hours into a conversation that's been mostly her talking about herself, when she leans back and somehow manages to rub against both of them in one move. "High school," she sighs happily in her pink drink. "So, what clubs are you boys in?"

"Baseball," they answer at the same time. The other guy sounds kind of sullen about it.

She laughs, leans into Izumi's shoulder. "Sports boys, huh? I bet," she moves in even closer, to whisper in his ear, "you two have a lot of stamina."

They do.

And a few hours later, when some secret baseball sense tells them _at the same time_ that it's time to get up from her bed and make their escape, after trying to figure out which sock is whose in the dark, he and Musashino's backup catcher grin at each other ruefully, with the awkward understanding of two guys who may have to meet each other socially in the future and pretend not to remember that they've had their dicks in the same girl, at the same time, and thoroughly enjoyed themselves in the process.


	5. Chapter 5

Shinooka takes her time making her decision, but around the next Golden Week training camp, she deliberately, and without much effort at all, acquires a new boyfriend. This time it's a widely-known fact, and while the entire team takes to teasing the hell out of Mizutani whenever she's not around, he keeps a grin permanently plastered on his face.

They're good together, everyone agrees, and even Izumi has to smile (secretly, when nobody's looking) at how easily Mizutani makes her laugh, and how she doesn't glance at Abe at all anymore. All's well that ends well.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when, a couple of weeks before the draw for the prefectural tournament, she calls his name during the evening trek to the convenience store, and slows down. He takes the hint and lets the rest of the team, including her doting boyfriend, take a significant headstart, but that's not a comfortable thing to do. He's fond of her, still, probably will always be, but they're hardly close.

And he doesn't want to get punched again.

"It's okay," she tells him, clearly amused at the way he keeps his bike between them even as he falls in step with her. He shrugs noncommittally, and lets her pick up the conversation. "Tell me, Izumi-kun, you're not seeing anyone at the moment, right?" she asks with a sweet smile.

What a weird thing for her to suddenly be interested in. "No." And he doesn't particularly want to, especially with the summer tournament coming, but he might as well let her say her piece. "Why?"

She nods, pensive. "There's a friend of mine, who… well, she likes a boy. Really likes him. But he comes off as having a lot of experience, and she doesn't, so she's worried that if something happens, he'll expect things she's not ready for."

Izumi honestly can't be sure, but it sounds like she's preparing the terrain for her friend's confession to him, making sure that he doesn't expect too much, too fast. In doubt, he keeps silent.

"It's really been bothering her, so we thought that maybe she should try getting that experience first. With someone else. And you've always been gentle with me, and you're not attached right now, and I know you wouldn't tell anyone, so…" She falls silent, letting it sink in.

"Who is it?" he asks, stupidly. As though that's really the question here.

"Mia-chan," she says, like she expects him to know who that is. It takes a few seconds to click, for a dark-haired girl on the cheer team to pop up in Izumi's mind. Cute. Sweet. Kind of blushy. Ogawa Mia is definitely not someone he'd mind having sex with, and, well, it's not like his previous encounters have been the result of deep emotional connections in the first place. Why not, at this point?

Shinooka takes care of the rest, and it isn't long before he ends up at Ogawa's otherwise empty house one afternoon, after a somewhat awkward conversation on the way back from practice.

It doesn't start all that well, as she keeps dodging any attempt at kissing until he has to _ask_ and she explain that that's something she wants to keep for the boy she really likes. The wisdom of the entire plan is more and more questionable, but he does his best, musters ever bit of experience he has to make it good for her, and at some point he feels the switch flip, feels her really get into it and she reaches back for him, tries out stuff that she can't have seen anywhere else than in the same kind of magazines Tajima shares so liberally, which makes him wonder if girls have some kind of parallel distribution network and if it wouldn't be more efficient to mix the two.

The fact that he can think about that stuff should be enough to tell him that there's something not right about this, but it doesn't really fall into place until they're done and she actually _thanks him_ for his time.

"You're welcome," he answers, staring out the window. "Don't tell your friends."


	6. Chapter 6

Not to be mean or anything, but Hamada's apartment is a dump. There's barely space to breathe, let alone move. The walls are as efficient as paper when it comes to blocking the street's noises, and even though August has well faded into September, it's still sweltering in here.

It does, however, have the advantages of holding no parents, teachers, classmates, or in fact any form of distraction at all, making this the perfect place for them to grill Mihashi on why he's been acting so skittish (even more than usual) and unfocused (even on baseball) lately.

'Them' being Izumi and Hamada, because when invited to this happy endeavor, Tajima shrugged and claimed that Mihashi could deal with the problem on his own. Izumi was tempted to defer to his opinion on the matter, but whatever is going on, Mihashi's ability to function normally has been at risk for too long, and he suspects that Momokan isn't going to wait much longer before she does something extreme, like giving Oki the ace's jersey.

It's not easy, getting something out of Mihashi. But they knew that going in, and after digging through layer after layer of self-deprecation and stuttered assurances that Mihashi is fine, really, there's nothing wrong with him at all, after reducing him to a huddled pile on the floor and trying not to feel horrible about it, they do manage to get somewhere.

"It's Abe-kun," Mihashi confesses. Izumi rolls his eyes. Much ado about nothing. "Last week, he said that he-he…" he hiccups.

Izumi takes a shot in the not-so-dark. "Likes you?"

Mihashi freezes, wide-eyed and terrified. "How?"

"Lucky guess," Hamada interrupts, tilted head and sunny smile. Izumi raises an eyebrow at him, but judging by Mihashi's apparent relief, maybe telling him that everyone has been talking about this for months wouldn't have been the best of choices. Maybe, just this once, Hamada knows better. "What did you say?"

Mihashi's breath hitches. "I didn't. I. I don't…" he seems to be working himself into a panic, so Izumi sits at his side, puts a hand on his shoulder. "We're not going to tell anyone. It's okay." Okay enough, at least. Whatever went on in that conversation, the battery _has_ been interacting this past week, and Abe hasn't looked especially scary. It can't be too bad.

Mihashi nods, but says nothing. "Do you dislike him?" Hamada asks, plopping himself on Mihashi's other side.

The response is instantaneous. "No! I don't, but, because, he is—"

Izumi opens his mouth to complete the sentence with 'an asshole', but gets overtaken by Hamada. "A guy?"

Mihashi nods, looking miserable. "I don't know. If I can. If I like…" That sort of makes sense. Maybe. Izumi's not certain. "If I do," Mihashi looks at Izumi pleadingly "and then I don't…"

Okay, okay. He can get this. He's had a year and a half of training. Everything Tajima can do, Izumi can do better. Kind of.

Not really.

"You don't want to accept him without being sure that it's what you want?" Hamada asks soothingly.

Mihashi's nod is a sharp jerk. That won't do. Izumi can take being outclassed by Tajima, but Hamada? Not going to happen. "But you can't become sure on your own."

Another nod.

"So," Hamada asks, leaning closer, "do you want to find out?"

Izumi frowns, but slides his thigh against Mihashi's. He is _not_ going to lose to Hamada, dammit.

He doesn't mention his suspicion until later, when Mihashi lay asleep, spent like after a good game and seemingly satisfied with the results of the experiment. "Tell me you didn't do that on purpose."

Hamada blinks innocently, running his hand through Mihashi's hair. "What, are you saying you're on Abe's side?"

What a ridiculous notion. "I'm on Mihashi's side." As should be obvious. He gets up, starts hunting for his clothes.

"So am I," Hamada whispers, smiling down upon Mihashi.

Like Izumi isn't even _there_. And it's not like he didn't suspect it, but if that was Hamada's plan all along, he might as well not have been there to begin with. "What about me?" he demands, somewhat more petulantly than he'd meant to.

Hamada tilts his head, and at least makes the effort of looking at him. "Unexpected bonus," he says, grinning.

"That stings," he says, rolling the sneer and the sarcasm together in one big ball of hostility, but it's a lie.

Because it downright hurts.


	7. Chapter 7

After the comparative disaster of his episode with Hamada and Mihashi, Izumi resolves to stop paying any attention to the romantic entanglements around him, which is how months later he still doesn't know whether Ogawa has found it in herself to confess to the boy she likes, whether Mihashi has made a choice or is keeping both his suitors hanging, or whether Oki and Nishihiro intend to make their obvious marital status official at any point.

It's also how he doesn't see the bomb coming until one freezing morning in November, when he arrives second to the clubroom.

"We broke up," Mizutani announces unprompted.

What? Last Izumi paid attention, the rest of the team had started a pool on baby names. Then again, that was a while ago. "I'm sorry." What else could he say?

Mizutani gets up and steps closer, looking defiant. "Aren't you going to comfort me?"

Something cold and angry coils in Izumi's stomach. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't that what you did for her?" Another step. "And Ogawa?" Another. "And… well. I hear things. It doesn't matter to you who it is, right?"

Izumi reacts on instinct. It only occurs to him afterward that this is more or less the anniversary of Mizutani punching him for daring to go out with Shinooka and, well. Now they're even.

Of course, that's not how Momokan sees it, and that afternoon they have to sit together as she lectures them on proper behavior and how not to be idiot teenage boys, and when Izumi thinks she's finally losing steam in comes Shigapo, who knows the school rulebook by heart and likes to show it.

Izumi makes his way back to the clubroom alone, and is surprised to find Suyama still there, contemplating something.

He doesn't ask, but that's not enough to be left alone. It never is. Maybe Izumi's developing a sixth sense, but something weird is going on here. "Hey, you've kissed a girl before, right?" Suyama asks in a low, contemplative voice.

Ah. _That's_ what this is about. "Yeah." Izumi shrugs as he pulls his sweater over his head, which kind of ruins the effect. "It's not a big deal." Once all the stuff with the tongues and the saliva is sorted out, that is.

"But isn't the first time… I mean, what if you kiss a girl and you're just not good at it?"

Honestly, there may have been better responses but Izumi's patience has already been sorely tried today and he's not above taking a shortcut. He drops his bag and walks up to the bench. Suyama's lips part in surprise when Izumi wraps a hand around his neck, thumb resting along his jaw.

Surprise is good enough.

After a few moments Suyama starts getting the gist of it, takes initiative, and while skill is still a long way away, he seems to have good instincts. Whoever the girl in question, she won't need too much patience before he is seriously proficient at this. If she's worth it, she'll wait.

"See," Izumi whispers against Suyama's lips after a few minutes (and maybe they're both a little breathless), "not a big deal at all."

The door opening, right on cue, makes him a hell of a liar. Izumi steps back quickly, but there's no misinterpreting what just happened, and how has he been so stupid as to not realize that Mizutani would come back here eventually, too?

"It's not what you think!" Suyama protests preemptively, making it even more obvious that it _is_ what Mizutani thinks. "It's…"

Izumi sighs. "Just go home," he says. "I'll take care of this."

They're left staring at each other across the tiny clubroom. And staring and staring until Mizutani bursts out laughing, and Izumi has to follow because, well, it's that or crying and it's all so fucking ridiculous.

He ends up down on the floor, wheezing, with Mizutani sitting next to him and holding out a drink. "Peace?"

"Peace. Sorry about…" he gestures vaguely to Mizutani's face, where the shiner is clear as day, before grabbing the coffee can. It's still warm. Bless.

The next day, the entire baseball team hides in bushes as Suyama professes his love and, to Izumi's horror, Ogawa Mia accepts the confession with the enthusiasm of a girl who's been waiting half a year for it.

Comes off as having a lot of experience. Right. Shinooka is so good at gathering information, he never thought of challenging her assertion.

But it's no use crying over spilled milk, so here's the plan: first he's going to have a _talk_ with his ex-girlfriend, one that involves a copious number of repetitions of "never again".

And then he's taking a vow of chastity because this is the last. Fucking. Straw.


	8. Chapter 8

With enough nagging, Izumi eventually consents to satisfying Mizutani's curiosity. Mihashi? Yes. Abe? Yes. (Wow. Wouldn't have thought.) Oki? No. Sakaeguchi? Yes. Tajima? No. (Abe and not Tajima? Your tastes are _weird_ , man.) Mizutani not-so artfully skips numbers seven and eight, and when he gets past ten Izumi throws him a scathing enough look that he finally lets it go for the day.

Izumi finds out that his self-imposed dry spell is liberating. It allows him to put his energy and concentration into things that are objectively more important, such as preparing for university entrance exams and, before that, his team's last chance at Koshien.

Six months in, though, he realizes that that last one is becoming seriously compromised.

Tajima's performance has been dreadful.

Of course, 'dreadful' for Tajima is still 'above average' for anyone else, but for the purposes of getting Nishiura to win Koshien this year, it's nowhere near good enough. Everyone notices, Tajima first of all, and it doesn't take the rest of the team long to realize that he simply doesn't know how to deal with being unable to exceed, or even meet, other people's expectations.

They theorize behind closed doors. Too much pressure. Scouts coming to the tournament especially to see him. Family trouble. Whatever the reason, something needs to be done, but nobody has any idea what and they all feel like Tajima can hear the most hushed of whispers even when he's three rooms away. They all try to keep their disappointment and concern down, but he smells it on them or something and it makes him even worse, until his batting average falls to more or less match Oki's.

Izumi is volunteered to intervene by a group of his peers, for clever and sensible reasons that could have applied to just about anyone else with only minor tweaking. But fine. He goes.

"So what's going on?" he asks, after Tajima's sister-in-law has brought them the customary drinks and snacks, and closed the door behind her with a meaningful look that Izumi couldn't decipher.

Tajima shrugs, staring into his soda. "Dunno. Nothing's working like usual."

Izumi gets the feeling that suggesting Tajima concentrates harder or trains longer would not be well received, on top of being dumb. "Maybe you need a distraction," he says. "Just for a little while."

Which is when he becomes aware that he's sitting alone with an eminently sexual being, in a closed room with a bed, being deliberately left alone by everyone else in the house. Probably not for the purpose he's considering, but still: left alone.

Tajima shrugs again. "Even masturbating isn't really good anymore, you know?"

"Yeah. I know." With feeling.

He _has_ developed a sixth sense because after that it isn't ten minutes before they're both half-naked and Tajima is straddling him, skin soft and warm under his hands.

It's not like before, though. The thing about Tajima is that he doesn't put up barriers, just gives everything all the time and that creates a real connection, right there and then, because they do like each other and have been friends for years. It's not love or anything, never was and won't be, but for once it makes Izumi feel _valued_ for something else than just happening to be in the right (wrong) place at the right (wrong) time or know what he's doing.

It's a revelation, and when Tajima pulls out a condom and lubricant and grins confidently, Izumi parts his legs without another thought than 'yes please'.

Without a doubt, neither of them thinks about duties or baseball or responsibilities, or, really, anything that isn't within immediate reach, for the rest of the evening.

The next morning, Mizutani takes one look at him and says "okay, who was it this time?"

Izumi rolls his eyes out of habit, but takes the list and pen he's offered, and adds a star next to Tajima's name before crossing it off. He hands the paper back with something that might, in the right light, qualify as a smug smirk.

Mizutani stares at it for a few seconds, before folding up the list and sticking it in his pocket. "Wow. He really is one of a kind, huh?" They get to the field and find Tajima already there, swinging a bat with perfect form.

Izumi feels some unspeakable muscles twitch, but it isn't unpleasant. "Yeah," he says, grinning. "Can't beat him."


	9. Chapter 9

The math is simple: as Tajima's performance picks up, so does Hanai's confidence sink. He represses hard, tries to be strong for his team, but they're all well attuned to him: enough to notice, enough to compensate for his underperformance in the first three games of the prefectural tournament. But sooner or later, their ability to do that is going to reach its limit.

The day after the third game, Mizutani watches Hanai vanish inside the mostly empty school, and turns to Izumi with a disturbing smile. "Shouldn't you try to work your magic?"

"Shut the fuck up," Izumi suggests amicably before taking off.

Hanai isn't difficult to find. He has a key to the music room, which is the only place where he can be certain of his superiority to Tajima.

"You're not eating with us?" Izumi asks from the door.

Hanai tenses minutely, then turns to him. "I'll be there. Just give me five minutes, okay?"

This isn't an easy victory, of course. It's just Hanai putting his team's needs before his own. He's so reliable. So steadfast. The one everybody counts on to never break, because if he did they wouldn't know how to deal with it. And so he doesn't.

Izumi realizes, then, that maybe he's been wrong all along. All this pressure that's been laid on his captain's shoulders for so long, all these responsibilities... what made him so sure that his slump had anything to do with Tajima?

"It's okay to refuse," he says, closing the door behind him as he steps inside.

"Then why—" Hanai starts, but interrupts himself when he notices Izumi's raised eyebrow.

"Snappy." He moves in to stand behind Hanai, lays his hands on his shoulders. "Bit tense, huh?"

"A bit," Hanai concedes, mollified.

"You do realize that if you need to kick back for a little while you could name Abe acting captain for a couple of days or something." He gets a laugh for that. Hollow, but a laugh anyway. There's a muscle twitching under Izumi's thumb. He tries to work at the knot without doing any irreparable damage. "Seriously, you look about to burn out, and that would suck. You're supposed to be inspiring the younger generations, you know."

Hanai snorts. "That's Tajima."

Izumi frowns. His hands stop on Hanai's shoulders. "No, it's not." It's not and Hanai isn't the type to play the amusing self-deprecation angle, but could it be that he doesn't _know_? "Sure, they'll drop his name in conversation to impress strangers. But when a loved one asks them about role models, you're the one they'll talk about." He blinks, surprised by his own intensity, if not by the feeling behind it. He's seen it, clear as day, in the eyes of the underclassmen on the team: they see Tajima and dream, and then they see Hanai, and strive. He's done it too, once.

"I…" but he finds nothing to say after that.

"You really don't know," Izumi says flatly. It seems impossible, except for the part where it makes perfect sense. Everyone leaning on him and nobody ever stopping to say _thank you, and by the way, I'm in awe of pretty much everything you do_. No way for him to know. "It's true." He wraps his arms around Hanai's shoulders in an unexpected display of affection. "It's all true. So if you need time off, you get it. It's that simple."

He feels the give, the moment Hanai relinquishes enough of his control to lean back. "I'll be fine. I've just been really stressed is all."

"Maybe you need an outlet. You know what Tajima would suggest, right?"

Hanai groans. "Something perverted."

"Something perverted," Izumi confirms in a whisper, "and amazing."

Hanai splutters, wiggles, and in the commotion Izumi is pretty sure he sees... something. Not much, but the hint of a physical reaction to the suggestion, and maybe to their closeness and maybe to a hundred other things. But he can help with that, and in the situation, it'll probably work better than any hitting practice. "Let me do something for you, for once," he offers, smiling mostly to himself. Then walks around Hanai, wedges himself between his captain's legs, and gets to his knees.

It's not a panacea. Hanai doesn't miraculously start running faster or hitting further. But when the next game comes, he's there, strong and steady, leading his team with absolute focus; making everyone's, but especially Tajima's, fighting spirit flare up. And inspired to do their best, playing together toward a common goal, _of course_ Nishiura wins the game.

(Koshien, too.)


	10. Chapter 10

By all rights, Hanai should have been the end of Izumi's adventures in having meaningless trysts with everyone he ever met, if only because there's virtually nobody left: by graduation, Oki and Nishihiro are still blissfully failing to hide their relationship, and Mizutani isn't at risk because he already knows the score.

Knows it. Debates it with himself (When all is said and done, does Suyama really count? Discuss.) Has the list pinned to the corkboard above his desk.

In his dreams, Izumi rips the thing to shreds.

But Mizutani never gives him a chance and there are more important dreams. Such as, for example, graduating university with better grades than Izumi escaped high school with. For which he needs help, and who better to do that than the man that three generations of Nishiura's baseball team still call sensei?

Even two years later he's as amenable as ever, and since the summer break hasn't ended yet, he even suggests Izumi stays over for a week of a crash course in everything. It won't be a bother, Nishihiro assures. His roommate will be back at his parents' until Saturday evening. That rings a small warning bell in Izumi's mind, which he ends up feeling slightly guilty about when it turns out that Nishihiro really intends to make him study.

The guy has a talent for teaching, no doubt about that. Still, after five days of poring over textbooks, Oki's return with two six-packs is a welcome change of pace. It's so nice to be able to lay back and reminisce that Izumi lets his defense so down that the term 'defense' doesn't even enter his mind. He starts out participating in the conversation, then devolves to nodding along, and after one too many beers his eyes decide that blinking is not worth the trouble, and stay closed.

He wakes up, bleary, to the lights turned down and the telling combination of muffled sounds and movement coming from the sofa he's leaning against. He'll blame on the alcohol the fact that it takes him at least half a minute to figure out what is going on, and that he doesn't get up and leave the moment the penny drops.

That's why the other penny, or shoe, or something, drops another fifteen seconds later: they're doing it on purpose. They have to be. Years of evading any conversation about girlfriends and calling each other 'roommate', and now they'd rather be making out right where he might wake up than walk the five meters to their bedroom?

But if the mutual hushes are fake, the other sounds aren't. Moans and sighs and rustling clothes, and, well, Izumi is still technically a teenage boy. One who has, more or less deliberately, let sex pass him by for the past two years. And there's the beer. The beer is important. The beer allows him not to think about what he's doing when a hand falls on his shoulder by complete non-accident, and he turns his head to it. When sure fingers blindly trace a path up his neck, along his jaw, to his lips, and he darts out his tongue to lick at the them. When Nishihiro whispers 'let's go to bed' and he takes the invitation to include him.

He surrenders himself in their hands and they're not what he would have expected, rougher maybe, less vanilla and in the drawer where the lube and condoms live he's sure he sees the flash of a shockingly pink dildo and other toys he can only guess at the use of. But those stay in the drawer, and it's not like they need them anyway, when they're both so skilled and focused on him that his brain short-circuit (and the beer, mustn't forget the beer).

When they're done Oki falls in the middle of the pushed together futon, with Nishihiro's arm carelessly laid on his waist.

Unbidden, Izumi's mind flashes to Shigapo's old speech about shared futons and closer relationships and it sinks in that he's eight for nine now (and then some), and when morning comes Oki and Nishihiro will still be together and he'll be a pleasant memory.

Again.

"I have to go," he mumbles, trying to stave off the sickness welling up in his stomach, and ignores all their protests as he gets dressed and runs out faster than common courtesy allows.


	11. Chapter 11

Izumi can't quite remember what instruction he gave, but when the cab drops him off he immediately recognizes his surroundings, knows how to enter the building and which door to bang on. He has a mission.

Only it's so late at night that it's early in the morning, and he's almost decided that the ground looks comfortable enough to sleep on when the door finally opens. "What—" Mizutani starts, but Izumi won't be distracted.

"I need a pen," he says, and pushes himself past his surprised host and to the tiny workspace by the window. He grabs a pen off the desk blindly before finding the list at the bottom left of the corkboard.

"Tell me you didn't," Mizutani starts.

Izumi doesn't answer, just crosses off Oki's name carefully, except it's not a pen in his hand but a highlighter, pink like the dildo and the whole thing, the list and the highlighter and the beer make him feel sick again, but he has a duty to perform and so he does the same with Nishihiro and there's nobody left now, only the list was lacking a name to begin with.

"Together? That's…" Mizutani tilts his head. "I guess that's better, in this case?"

He drops the highlighter back on the desk and turns back to face the inevitable. The last man standing between him and consummate sluttiness, and he's casually leaning against a wall, sleep-mussed, wearing worn boxers and a tight t-shirt, and Izumi doesn't ever want to have sex again but he looks kind of delectable and also whatever he does it's going to happen someday so why not get it over with already?

"You're the last one," he says, in case Mizutani hasn't done the math yet.

Mizutani's sleepy expression freezes, then turns into one of mixed horror and disappointment. "You mean you don't remember our night?" He swallows. "I know we never talked about it, but I thought it at least meant _something_ to you…"

Izumi barely makes it to the toilet in time.

Despite his relative distraction in the minutes that follow, he can't help hearing the hysterical laughter.

"You're too easy when you're drunk," Mizutani manages to articulate through fits of laughter.

That sends another unpleasant shudder through Izumi. "Asshole," he manages to grit out when the retching has stopped.

"You deserve me," Mizutani replies brightly. He pauses. It's a weird silence, and then Mizutani is stepping out of the bathroom. "Take a shower when you're done, I'm not sharing my bed with you stinking like that."

Izumi could go home, but that doesn't appeal as much as the immediate perspective of a warm bed. There are clean, comfortable clothes waiting for him when he gets out of the bathroom, and then Mizutani is pushing a bowl in his hands.

Cup ramen, which smells something between appetizing and disgusting. Or possibly both at once. "I'm not hungry," Izumi points out. Really, he just wants to sleep.

"Eat up anyway. It's good for you, and you'll be glad to have something left in your stomach to throw up later." Izumi is sure there's something wrong with Mizutani's logic (there usually is), but for now he can't seem to find it so he sits down and tries his best to force the food down his throat.

The warmth from the shower still hasn't completely faded away when Izumi stumbles to the single bed and rolls under the covers, eyes already closed before he's even properly laying down. Still, he notices the lights turning off, and feels Mizutani climb over him and settle between him and the wall. The bed really is too small for two, but somehow they manage to fit, and Mizutani is nice and warm against his back.

"I meant it, you know," Izumi mumbles, although he's pretty sure that what he should be saying is 'thanks for not tossing my promiscuous ass back on the streets'. "You're not safe from me. It's going to be you one day. I have... wiles." Mizutani needs to be warned, because he's been a good friend and he's really oblivious sometimes.

"You're not all that irresistible right now, buddy."

Right now he's not trying. It doesn't count. "But you'll resist, right? When... if I come at you, you won't let me?" He wraps the blanket a little tighter around himself. "Promise?"

He's in that state of pre-sleep in which time stretches to eternity, so it feels like it takes Mizutani forever to answer. But eventually there's a long exhalation, warm breath tickling at the back of Izumi's neck. "Yeah," he says, low and comforting. "I promise."


End file.
